The egg had not broken.
It had awakened.

What now stood before Auren and Lyra was no beast of flesh and claw—but a sentinel of soul-forged fire.

It hovered inches from the ground, its body shaped like a small drake, its wings folded inward like a monk in prayer. Its scales shimmered with ghostly blue, but within its eyes burned the same celestial red that rimmed Auren’s armor.

And yet… it did not attack.

“I know you,” it whispered, voice more felt than heard.
“You carry his flame. But your name is not his.”

Auren slowly reached for his blade. Lyra stepped back, hand on her dagger.

“He was called Solren,” the creature continued.
“The Karmic Flamebearer. First of your kind.
He made the Pact. Then he shattered it.”

The draconic sentinel circled him.

“Now you come with his blade and no memory.
That makes you either a fool… or fate.”

Auren didn’t speak. He let the silence weigh.

The sentinel stopped in front of him and stretched out its wings. Between them, a glowing seal formed—a ring of runes, spinning slowly.

“Then let the flame judge you.”

With a shriek, the seal exploded—energy rushing forward like a tide.
Auren braced.

The moment it touched him, time ceased.

He stood in a void, surrounded by mirrors of himself.

In one, he saw a warlord, soaked in blood, leading armies across burning skies.

In another, a martyr, kneeling before a divine tribunal, stripped of name and soul.

And in the last—one that felt too real—he stood as a child, holding a blade far too large for him, crying over a fallen dragon… whispering: “I didn’t want to.”

“These are not your memories,” the sentinel spoke from everywhere.
“But they were carved into your karmic soul. You inherit more than steel.”

Auren clenched his fists.

“Then I will do what they could not.”

“Do what?” the sentinel asked.
“Redeem their sins?”
“Or repeat them?”

Time snapped back.

Auren dropped to one knee, breathing hard.

The sentinel hovered lower, watching.

“You did not break.”

It lowered its head.

“Then you may take the Flamebrand’s name.”

“I didn’t come for names,” Auren muttered.
“I came for answers.”

“And you will find none in comfort,” the creature replied.
“Only through ash, steel… and consequence.”

Then, it began to dissolve into motes of light—swirling around Auren’s blade.

The runes along its edge glowed brighter. The metal hissed with reawakening power.

[Skill Unlocked: Soulbrand Awakening – Tier I]
“Your blade remembers. Now it will speak.”

Later, as they ascended the broken steps of Serentha, Lyra finally spoke.

“You looked like you were dying down there.”

“I might have,” Auren said.
“But the blade didn’t let me.”

“What was it?” she asked.

“A guardian. Of something long buried.”
He glanced upward, where the twilight sky now shimmered with crimson veils.
“And a warning. That the sins of the first Knight… are still watching me.”

Meanwhile, far in the west, atop the spire of a forgotten monastery, a cloaked figure looked toward Serentha, a glowing draconic sigil in his palm.

“So… another Flamebearer stirs.”

He smiled, cruelly.

“Time to see if he burns.”

“You cannot outrun the fire you inherit.
 You must learn to wield it…
 or be consumed.”
                               — Oath of the Flamebearers